


Songs from "Flemington"

by Luzula (Luzula_podfic)



Category: Flemington - Violet Jacob
Genre: Folk Music, Gen, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28362888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luzula_podfic/pseuds/Luzula
Summary: Three folk songs from canon, set to music by me.





	Songs from "Flemington"

When I recorded the [audiobook](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28241439) of Flemington, there were three songs in the book that I set to music in order to sing them. I think they're actually all from Violet Jacob's poetry collection _Songs of Angus_ , but I couldn't find any melody for them online. Follow the links of the titles to listen to the songs. Er, apologies for my lack of Scottish accent!

* * *

[Logie Kirk](https://app.box.com/s/b02d8xzn9y5e8jusgl9cdqauph8mr3yg)

O Logie Kirk, among the braes  
I’m thinkin’ o’ the merry days  
Afore I trod the weary ways  
That led me far frae Logie.

Fine do I mind when I was young,  
Abune thy graves the mavis sung,  
And ilka birdie had a tongue  
To ca’ me back to Logie.

O Logie Kirk, tho’ aye the same,  
The burn sings ae remembered name,  
There’s ne’er a voice to cry ‘Come hame  
To bonnie Bess at Logie!’

Far, far awa’ the years decline  
That took the lassie wha was mine  
And laid her sleepin’ lang, lang syne  
Among the braes at Logie.

* * *

[The Tod](https://app.box.com/s/jqh5a8hq1w5sglr8oelbyl60rxy5jbk8)

There’s a tod aye blinkin’ when the nicht comes doon,  
Blinkin’ wi’ his lang een, and keekin’ round an’ roun’,  
Creepin’ by the farm-yaird when gloamin’ is to fa’,  
And syne there’ll be a chicken or a deuk awa’.  
Aye, when the guidwife rises there’s a deuk awa’!

There’s a lass sits greetin’ ben the hoose at hame,  
For when the guidwife’s cankered she gie’s her aye the blame,  
And sair the lassie’s sabbin’, and fast the tears fa’,  
For the guidwife’s tynt a bonnie hen, and it’s awa’.  
Aye, she’s no sae easy dealt wi’ when her gear’s awa’!

There’s a lad aye roamin’ when the day gets late,  
A lang-leggit deevil wi’ his hand upon the gate,  
And aye the guidwife cries to him to gar the toddie fa’,  
For she canna thole to let her chicks an’ deuks awa’.  
Aye, the muckle bubbly-jock himsel’ is ca’ed awa’!

The laddie saw the tod gae by, an’ killed him wi’ a stane,  
And the bonnie lass wha grat sae sair she sits nae mair her lane,  
But the guidwife’s no contented yet—her like ye never saw,  
Cries she, ‘This time it is the lass, an’ she’s awa’!’  
Aye, yon laddie’s waur nor ony tod, for Jean’s awa’!

* * *

[My love stood at the loanin’ side](https://app.box.com/s/uaf0yr2w9pe902gub43kigw7tyat88cg)

My love stood at the loanin’ side  
And held me by the hand,  
The bonniest lad that e’er did bide  
In a’ this waefu’ land;  
There’s but ae bonnier to be seen  
Frae Pentland to the sea,  
And for his sake but yestereen  
I sent my love frae me.

I gie’d my love the white, white rose  
That’s at my feyther’s wa’,  
It is the bonniest flower that grows  
Where ilka flower is braw;  
There’s but ae brawer that I ken  
Frae Perth unto the main,  
And that’s the flower o’ Scotland’s men  
That’s fechtin’ for his ain.

If I had kept whate’er was mine,  
As I had gie’d my best,  
My hairt were licht by day, and syne  
The nicht wad bring me rest;  
There is nae heavier hairt to find  
Frae Forfar toon to Ayr,  
As aye I sit me doon to mind  
On him I see nae mair.

Lad, gin ye fa’ by Chairlie’s side,  
To rid this land o’ shame,  
There will na be a prouder bride  
Than her ye left at hame;  
But I will see ye whaur ye sleep  
Frae lowlands to the peat,  
And ilka nicht at mirk I’ll creep  
To lay me at yer feet.


End file.
